… than to get involved in a full and frank exchange of views between the spotty boys. Got a nice gash across the knuckle of my right thumb for my pains. Both boys now banished outside until they learn how to behave (well, I can dream …)

Mustrum came in through the study window this evening with a blackbird in his jaws. It was, sadly, deceased. It’s very unusual for him to catch anything, or at least to bring it home – he’s quite indolent, really. Although he has been a little bit out of sorts for a week or so, to […]

They don’t get on really, the big spotty cats and the kittens … On the left, Henry lying on top of Iggy, and on the right Ron lying on top of Mustrum. The kittens just turn up and occupy a space, no matter what else is in it, and expect to be made welcome. And […]

The spotty boys, Iggy and Mustrum, have had a turbulent relationship since they arrived. We got them ten days apart, on 4th and 14th December respectively, in 1998. Which means we are almost at our 10th anniversary, the three of us! Two male Bengals in a house, even though they are neutered, is always going […]

The kittens have been here 12 days. That doesn’t seem right* … it feels as though they either arrived yesterday, or have been here for months. Anyway, this is the first time that we’ve seen one of them (this is Henry) curled up with one of the senior cats (this is Mustrum). You can barely […]

Bought from the same breeder, within two weeks of each other, they’ve never really got on. Sometimes this “not getting on” has been all out warfare, with appalling displays of violence and aggression. Certainly I haven’t seen them this physically close together in literally years. We are seeing a lot of change in the remaining […]

We once took a photo of the whole Tribe together on the bed – it was in the days when They Were Nine, and gone are Mollie, Zool, Shrimp and Drumknott, and Esk and Ptep have moved to Norwich. I doubt we’ll ever get the current Tribe to sit together, but they were all in […]

We were greeted on Saturday morning by the mournful rowling of Iggy, who arrived on the bed as wet as a cat can be. Further investigation proved that this dampness was more than the torrential rain we have been suffering for ever^H^H many days. Clearly, he’d been in either the fish pond or the stream, […]

Four and a half hours later, the spotty boys are still there, curled up – almost spooning, you might way. We have no explanation for this, except we wonder are they perhaps mimicing the Northern Ireland peace agreement? In which case – a scary thought, I know – which of them is Paisley, and which […]